


What Are You Thinking

by DragonGoesMoo



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Loki kinda helps the team out, Multi, Multiple Endings, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Swearing, by accident, character study i think
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2018-12-20 12:48:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11921247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonGoesMoo/pseuds/DragonGoesMoo
Summary: The Avengers are back together and they think they have managed to put the whole Civil War thing behind them and rebuild their relationships with one another. But when a defeat at the hands of Loki leaves one of them cursed for a day they realize that they might not have healed as much as they thought.





	1. Loki

**Author's Note:**

> So,
> 
> I'm kinda using this to try and get into the Avengers heads a bit. I don't really feel that I write them that well and really want to change that.
> 
> Each chapter will be a different characters POV and since i will be focusing on a different character each chapter some of the others that show up might seem a bit OOC.
> 
> These are all separate endings to the same scenario so parings and characters will change from chapter to chapter.
> 
> Since the whole idea is to get better at writing these characters, any and all comments and feedback would be greatly appreciated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thought I would add this just for background on the chapters. It's not long and not great but...ehh. may as well put it on here

“Well Avengers, it seems that none of you are over that silly little Civil War. Are you? It is no fun winning this easily. I guess I’ll just have to fix that won’t I?” Loki raised his scepter and slammed it into the cracked remains of the road he was currently standing on, like some kind of twisted green Gandalf. Blazing green light exploded from the end of the scepter engulfing the Avengers who were scattered around the ruins of the battleground near Loki’s feet.

“Maybe if you were all communicating properly then you would get along.” And with that Loki disappeared, leaving a very confused group of heroes in his wake.


	2. Tony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've changed this chapter as I wasn't happy with it. It's much shorter but I feel that Tony's voice in this one is a little closer to how he actually is. 
> 
> If you want to read the original. leave a comment and I'll put it in it's own chapter.
> 
> P.S sorry if the tense changes suddenly I was trying something out.  
> P.P.S TW for slight self harm. if you want to know what it is go to the end note

_He’s frozen in place on the couch watching as Obi-Stane rips out his arc reactor. He can feel the shrapnel move and cut its way through his chest, can feel the blood pooling in his lungs. He splutters and chokes as Stane laughs and raises the arc reactor above his head._

_“I’m sorry Tony.” Stane shimmers and flickers in and out of existence his voice overlapped by someone else’s. Suddenly it’s not Stane standing there watching him die, It’s Steve._

_He’s safe now. Steve’s his friend, he’ll put the reactor back and Tony will live. Why hasn’t he moved yet? What’s taking so long?_

_“But he’s my friend.” Steve smashes the reactor on the floor. Tony can’t do anything but watch as his only chance at life shatters right along with his heart. Steve is looming over him now and it’s so cold. Steve raises the shield and Tony gurgles out half formed pleas as tears stream down the side of his face. Steve is going to kill him and there is nothing he can do. The last thing Tony sees is a blur of red white and blue as the shield is slammed across his neck._

Tony’s eyes snap open, a soundless scream forcing its way out of him, as he sits up. He claws at his chest searching for the thing keeping him alive. It’s not there. He rips his clothes searching with shaking hands and can feel something slick and warm cover his hands. Oh god. They’ve taken it and now he’s going to die. His chest aches with the need for air he can’t seem to get yet he doesn’t stop his desperate clawing.

Something grabs his wrists and stops his hands. What are they doing do they want him to die? He lifts wide, frantic eyes and is met with a shock of red and a familiar face.

“-the Tony. You have to breathe.” Natasha is there. it’s going to be okay now. She’ll help him. He tries to drag in a breath and chokes. he can feel tremors run through him as Natasha places one of his hands on her chest.

“Ca-can’t.”

“Yes you can Tony. Just in and out.” Natasha breathes deep and Tony can feel her heartbeat under his hand and just stares into her eyes. Eventually his breathing calms and the tremors stop. He slumps into Natasha’s arms like a puppet with its strings cut and just breathes her in for a while. Even though he is exhausted he musters enough energy to lean back and face her, he doesn’t understand why she would be here, of all places. None of the others care about him, no matter what his panic riddled mind likes to think sometimes, so why would she help him and why does she look like she’s about to cry? Natasha doesn’t cry. Ever.

“Why are you here?” He cringes when his voice cracks and wavers. He berates himself when he flinches away from her touch.

“I know what Loki meant about us all communicating better.” She smiles but it’s small and sad and showing way too much emotion to be coming from Natasha. Tony doesn’t know what to do with her cryptic answer, honestly he hadn’t really thought about what Loki had done to them. Nothing he could think of could be worse than the constant fear he felt being around the other Avengers now or the guilt that sat heavy in his gut when he looked at Rhodey.

“Oh Tony. No. I care, I know it doesn’t seem that way, but I do.” Wait did he say that out loud? He was sure he didn’t.

“You didn’t and I’m so sorry for everything. I will never leave you again.” Tony wishes he could believe her but everyone always leaves him. As soon as she has what she wants she’ll be gone again and... Wait.

 Shit.

“Did you uh…happen to see what that dream was about?” Tony voice fares no better than the last time he spoke, barely making it from his lips in a squeak.

“Yes.”

“And you heard all the stuff afterwards?”

“Yup.” Tony blushes a deep scarlet as he groans and buries his head in the crook of her neck. Before he remembers who he was leaning against and tensed.

“Don’t worry Tony. I would say stay there as long as you need but we should really get those scratches cleaned.” Natasha grimaces as she pushes him far enough away to get a good look at his chest. He’s to mortified and tired to snark at her or protest when she starts shoving him toward the bathroom. They’re silent as he lets Natasha clean and bandage his chest. He still can’t understand why she’s doing it though. Is it out of guilt?

“Partially. But I really do just care about you. I understand though that I broke your trust and I am going to earn it back.” Right the whole mind reading thing. Does that mean if he thinks of something really gross like…

“God Tony! That’s disgusting. How…Where the hell did you find a rubber chicken with a pulley in the middle?!” Tony couldn’t help it he cackled as Natasha-super-spy-Romanoff gagged on his bathroom floor. He sobered quickly though needing to know if she would truly be there for him. If she would even go against Rogers for him.

“I would. But I know that just saying it is going to mean nothing so just wait until the next team training session.” Tony chuckles at the mental image of Rogers withering under Natasha’s glare as she choked some poor person out with her thighs.

All too soon Natasha finishes cleaning him up and Tony is dreading getting back into his huge bed by himself. Ever since Siberia his nightmares had been worse and the only way he ever got any semblance of sleep was if someone was next to him.

“I’ll make you a deal. If you tell me what happened in Siberia I’ll come sleep with you if you want.” Natasha murmurs as they walk back into his room. He feels his pulse spike and breathing hitch at the thought of having to talk about what happened in that Hydra base and can’t stop the surge of bitterness at the thought of Rogers not telling anyone what actually happened.

“You don’t have to tell me tonight or even tomorrow night, but you do have to tell me when you’re ready.” She slides into his massive bed and stares up at him. If he didn’t know her better Tony would have thought she was trying to fuck him. But he does know better and he can see the tiny sliver of doubt in her eyes about what she is doing. Well that just won’t do.

Sliding in next to her, Tony gathers her in his arms and breathes in the mix of cinnamon and peppermint that should have smelled like a bad Christmas dessert but just smells of Natasha and safety. Sure, he still doesn’t fully trust her, and she knows it but at least now he has somewhere to start with her. At least now they can finally heal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While Tony is panicking he scratches at his chest. it's not really graphic but thought i would warn people all the same.


	3. Bucky

_“Please help my wife…Sargent Barnes?”_

_No. Bucky screamed as he launched himself at the Winter Soldier. He had to stop this. He flew toward his target but instead of hitting him he passed straight through and landed with a thud on the ground behind him. He pushed himself up and dashed to the car trying in vain to stop the hand that was reaching for Howard’s head. He watched in horror as the Winter Soldier slammed his metal fist into Howard's head._

_“Howard! Howard!” his wife was still trapped in the car and Bucky ran to put himself between her and the Winter Soldier but he just reached through him and started to strangle her._

_“Stop please.” Bucky whimpered as he slid to his knees beside the car. He was somehow now facing the Soldier and his victim but it wasn’t Howard’s wife anymore, it was Tony._

_“No! Tony!” Bucky cried, tears streaking down his face, as the Soldier snapped Tony’s neck. Bucky screamed and curled in on himself, sobbing and mumbling incoherently._

_“You did this. This is your fault.” Bucky’s head snapped up and he stared straight into Tony’s dead eyes as he repeated those words over and over._

_“No! I-it was the Soldier he did it not me.” The Soldier walked over and crouched right in front of him staring blankly._

_“But I am you Soldat.” Suddenly Bucky was where the Soldier had been crouched. As the Soldier’s words drifted around him, Bucky looked down at his shaking hands in horror. They were covered in blood._

_“Your fault. You did this.”_

_“But I am you.”_

_“Your fault.”_

_“Do you even remember them?” The voices grew from whispers to screams, echoing inside Bucky’s head. He covered his ears and, shaking his head, screamed into the night._

Bucky woke with a start, scream lodged in his throat, eyes darting around the dark room as he struggled to draw in a breath. He tried to stand, needing to move, needing to run, but collapsed back onto the bed when his shaking legs gave out. His sweat stained shirt stuck to him as he curled in on himself, hands over his ears as the nightmare replayed over and over in his mind. The world around him grew fuzzy and black spots crowded his vision, he was shaking so hard that he was sure he was coming apart. Closing his eyes, he willed unconsciousness to take him. Anything, even complete nothingness, would be better than this hell. Just as it seemed that he was about to finally get his respite, he felt someone grab his hand and he flinched, hard, but then whoever it was started running their hand through his hair.

It still took him longer than he liked to admit for the voices from the dream to fade away and for him to be able to breathe again, though it was still shaky and shallow it was much better than it had been. It seemed that with the extra oxygen getting to his brain he could now take stock of his surroundings. There was no noise except the sound of his ragged breathing and the small scratching of the, definitely male, calloused hand over his scalp. The other hand of the stranger was holding his flesh one to something bumpy. A chest, his scattered brain put together as he felt the strangers steady pulse under his hand.

He stayed like that, letting the petting and pulse do their work and calm him, for a long while. When he finally opened his eyes, that he didn’t remember closing, he was met with an empty room, washed in the muted tones of dawn. The bed was still warm from where his mystery helper had been sitting and he rolled into it. If he tried he could still smell them, a mix of coffee, grease and something floral. After a few minutes he decided that he would not be going back to sleep thank you very much and promptly got ready for the day ahead.

When he was showered and dressed he went to sit in the communal kitchen with a steaming mug of hot chocolate. Tony was already there, back to Bucky and mug of hot chocolate on the bench behind him. He sat at the bench and, taking a sip from his mug, sighed. That fucking dream had been haunting him, playing on repeat nearly every night and every night his mystery comforter would come and well…comfort him. How fucked up was he that he wished his mystery man was Tony. He had been crushing hard on the genius for months now, ever since he first worked on the ar…

Tony choked and spluttered, spitting out his coffee with such force that Bucky was sure some of it came out his nose.

“Shit, you ok?” he asked as he rounded the bench to rub Tony’s back.

“Y-yeah I’m good I…uh…I gotta go.” Before Bucky could even think about protesting, Tony was gone. What the hell? Sitting back at the bench, Bucky sighed again. He thought that him and Tony were doing okay. Ever since the end of that stupid ‘Civil War’, that wasn’t a war Bucky had seen war and it was much worse than that back alley brawl, he had tried to help the genius in any way he could.

In the beginning, it was because he believed he owed it to Tony. To let him use Bucky in any way he wanted…within reason, he wanted to make amends not give up his hard-won autonomy. Slowly that changed though, he went from giving the man space and time to, in his words ‘just process…everything’, to making him food when he forgot or was too busy to eat and helping in the lab, sometimes he would find Tony sitting on the couch in the communal lounge room at 3am, eyes bloodshot and haunted. When he did find him like this, Bucky would always sit with him and wrap both of them in a blanket until the engineer came back to himself. It went from wanting to make amends to wanting to see Tony smile or laugh or just even relax a little. he wanted to see him happy.

Bucky thought that, even though he would never get to _be_ with Tony, he was doing okay in the friendship department. He thought they had made actual progress towards being at least friendly, but maybe he was wrong. Of course he was wrong! Who would want to be friends with their parents killer?  

_“Your fault. You did this.”_

Bucky’s mug shattering in his hands pulled him back to reality. Unfortunately, to stop exactly this from happening, his mug had been in his flesh hand. So, as Bucky pulled ceramic shards from his palm he resolved to give Tony more space. Chuckling humorlessly, Bucky was at least glad Tony had put up with him for this long.

While the Winter Soldier was now, like his trigger words, well and truly gone from his mind, the skills he had learned as the Soldier were not. He had never been more grateful for that fact than now, now when he uses them to avoid Tony like the plague. Sure it’s disheartening to see Steve’s face pinched in worry, but it’s better than seeing the hate or worse fear that he might see in Tony’s eyes. He had successfully avoided Tony, and later the others when they kept looking at him like his grandmother had just died, for most of the day and was now sitting in his room contemplating his life. It was not brooding, Clint. When FRIDAY’s lilting accent pieced the silence, sounding panicked.

“Sargent Barnes. Boss needs you in the lab, there’s been an accident.” She hadn’t even gotten half way through her sentence before Bucky was up and bolting for the lab. He didn’t care what had happened or if Tony hated him, he just needed to get to him and make sure he was alright.

“Tony?! Tony? Where are you?” Bucky bellowed into the seemingly abandoned workshop. he couldn’t see any signs of an explosion or fire so he, very cautiously, stepped into the lab. He spun on his heels to stare, wide eyed, as the doors slid shut and locked. What? Why the hell did the doors close? And where the hell is Tony?

“I’m right here and I’m…oof.” Bucky slammed into Tony wrapping him up into a quick hug before he maneuvered him so that he could check for injuries, sure that there would be something but there…was nothing.

“Hey, hey it’s fine, I’m fine. Everything is…fine.” Tony finished lamely as Bucky wrapped himself around the genius. He didn’t even realize he was shaking until Tony’s hand found its way into his hair and started combing and…oh, he would recognize that hand anywhere. He always wanted…

“Yeah, yeah it was me the whole time. Drat you caught me.” Tony chuckled as he led them both to the ratty couch hidden away on one side of the room.

“Hey that couch maybe old and well loved, but it certainly isn’t _ratty_.” Tony scrunched up his nose as he sat right in Bucky’s lap. He knew there was something off about what Tony had just said but he couldn’t think straight with Tony sitting so close.

“To answer what was wrong with what I just said. It was, drum roll please, that you never said my couch was ratty out loud.” He looked so smug, lips pulled into a very kissable smirk, announcing that…

“because I am.” Bucky brain finally caught up with what was being said and…

“Oh.”

“Yeah, _oh_. Jeez Buck. I run away once and your first thought is that I hate you?” Bucky looked away, of course Tony didn’t hate him. They spent way too much time together for that. But that niggling voice in the back of his head, the one that blamed him for everything, was so loud it drowned everything else out sometimes

“I know. Trust me I know what that’s like. It sucks but I don’t hate you, and if that nightmare recurs as often as I think it does you officially beat me for how many times someone dreams about my parent’s murder.” Slowly he closed his eyes, letting his head fall onto Tony’s shoulder as he let out a breath that he didn’t know he had been holding. He probably looked like a balloon deflating…Tony snorted

“Yep. You kinda do. And I’m…I-I should probably say sorry for…y’know running away but I mean it’s not every day your crush inadvertently admits he likes you through accidental telepathy.” Oh.

“You have been saying that an awful lot tonight.”

“Yeah well I’m a man of few words. What can I say.” Bucky mumbled from his place on Tony’s shoulder, smile stretching across his face.

“Can I take you to dinner sometime?” Bucky asked quietly, almost hesitantly. Just to make sure that Tony heard it he also thought it

“Agh. Jeez! It’s like I got it in stereo. Can you not. And yes, you can. But maybe we’ll wait until this…ugh… _spell._ Wears off.” Tony spat the word like it physically pained him to acknowledge that magic was a thing.

“It did actually. I can feel the ulcer that gave me forming as we speak.” Tony groaned and Bucky? Well he just squeezed him a little bit tighter.

"Wait FRIDAY said there was an emergency." Bucky glanced at Tony and was surprised to see him looking sheepish.

"Uhh. Yeah about that..." Bucky couldn't help it. He doubled over laughing.


	4. Rhodey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there is internalized ableism (I think that's right?) in this chapter. Just wanted to give everyone a heads up

Jim groaned as he pulled himself back up using the bars that were now above his head. The braces on his legs whirred and clicked as he got his feet back under him again. He knew that he was going to get so much shit from Tony and probably Sam, who took a vested interest in his recovery for some reason, for working with the braces when he shouldn’t have but he just wanted to be better. He wanted to be able to walk without needing help, he wanted his job with the air force back, hell he wanted to be able to pee standing up again.

Outside of the War Machine armor that now had legs that pretty much moved themselves, thanks to Tony, he was mostly confined to a wheelchair. The leg braces were great and he loved that he could walk, kind of, but they weren’t perfect and it took a lot of energy to use them. So, wheelchair.

He lowered himself into his chair that sat opposite the bars he had been working with all but ripping the braces off and tossing them unceremoniously onto the floor before wheeling himself out of the PT room and back to his own. The halls of the compound were quiet as he passed through them. The sunrise streamed through the walls of glass, bathing the rest of the halls in beautiful arrays of soft pinks and yellows. There were a few people that passed him, low level agents and techs that called the compound home, pointedly looking everywhere but at him.

He hated that, when people avoided talking or even looking at him because they were uncomfortable about his legs. Some of the support staff that he had actually liked and hung out with sometimes before that stupidly named ‘Civil War’ had even stopped talking to him and were actively avoiding him. Why the hell were they the uncomfortable ones, they weren’t the ones that got shot out of the sky, they weren’t the ones whose legs may as well not be there at all for all the good they do him, they aren’t the ones who are confined to a wheelchair a good 90% of the time.

Finally after wheeling through the compound, for some reason his rooms were the furthest from the PT room, he managed to get to his door that swung open as he neared it. At least one of his friends would never abandon him, he remembered when he caught Tony renovating his rooms at the compound and rigging up the door to open without him actually having to touch it. After the manic storm that was Tony Stark had finished, Jim’s rooms had been fully wheelchair friendly.

He knew a lot of that energy and drive to help him came from the guilt his friend harbored over not catching him. Which was stupid because he had nothing to feel guilty for, no one could have caught him. Telling that to Tony and getting him to believe it were two different things though so instead of seeking out one of the one person that stuck by him when he was feeling his worst, he stayed away, hating himself for being another burden on his friend. Because that was all he was now, a burden. In the early days after the fall that took his ability to walk he had needed help with everything, from working his wheelchair to putting pants on, and though he had adapted well and learned how to do those things, he still needed more help than any grown adult should need.

Slowly, painfully and awkwardly, which was how most things were done now, Jim showered, dressed in his most comfortable PJ’s and flopped onto his bed. He knew there was something that he should probably be doing and that it was way too early to go to bed but he just couldn’t find the energy to care. Without even getting under the blankets he closed his eyes and tried to get some sleep.

“No, no Ow!” Jim jolted and, running on instinct, tried to spring to his feet as someone crashed their way toward his bedroom. His legs didn’t heed his command though and lay still as his momentum dislodged him from his precarious place on the edge of his bed and sent him tumbling to the floor. Of fucking course. If he ever had any doubts about his uselessness he would just have to remember this. Sprawled over the floor as some unknown person stomped towards him, completely unable to defend himself. He was supposed to be War Machine, badass superhero.

The door to his room swung open and standing there in the door way was none other than Clint Barton. He had Nathaniel perched on his hip and a nasty looking bruise forming down the left side of his face.

“Shit man. Do you need a hand?” He sat Nate down in the middle of the bed and instead of rushing to help him like most people Clint just stood beside the bed watching him. Jim wanted to bury his face in the rug he landed on and never get up. Not like he could do anything anyway. Instead he sighed and nodded mutely. Clint was by his side in an instant, wrapping his arms around Jim’s shoulder and waist, and hauled him back up onto the bed before he himself clambered on and pulled Nate onto his chest. Jim shimmied up the bed glanced at Clint, noticing the flash of bright purple at his ear. Why the hell was Clint even here? He should be in his own set of rooms with his wife and kids not here with…with him. He wasn’t worth the early morning trip.

“Oh my god stop. Can you just not with that kind of talk.” Clint groaned and thumped his head against the headboard while he readjusted a now napping Nate. What? Jim was pretty sure that he hadn’t said a word since…well at all today. He just didn’t feel particularly chatty.

“Yeah, I get that but jeez man. You gotta stop with all this self-deprecating cra…b apples.” Clint hastily corrected as Nate stirred in his arms.

“The fudge you mean ‘self-deprecating’ I haven’t said a word to you today.” Jim squinted over at Clint who was now wrestling one of his hearing aids from Nate’s tired grasp, the thing was glistening with toddler spit.

“He’s teething. I did bring his teething rings, y’know the things made specifically for kids to chew on but no. he threw that at my face and then yanked my aid out and stared chewing on that.” Clint chuckled and Rhodey finally caught on to what was happening

“I didn’t ask about that and I only thought about your nasty aid…Fuuuudge.” He groaned and slammed his head against the headboard. Why the hell was Loki such an ass.

“I know right. Try telling Thor that.” Clint sighed wiping his now freed aid on the blanket beneath them…ugh. “Seriously though thanks to Loki’s Lokiness I could hear everything you were thinking this morning. You know it’s shit right?” Clint stared at him with such intense focus that Jim squirmed. Of course logically he knew that most of his thoughts today had been utter shit but that didn’t stop them from being thought and it certainly didn’t stop them from affecting him in the worst possible way.

“I get it. You know. That nagging little voice in the back of your head telling you that your damaged goods now. That your no good to anyone, but locking yourself away isn’t going to help anyone.” Jim just sighed and closed his eyes. Things spread quick around the compound and if Clint knew then Natasha definitely knew and that means everybody’s going to find out that what he’s been thinking.

“Look I’m not gonna tell Stark or any of the others and I can make sure that if Nat knows she won’t tell either. But can you please do something for me in return.” Clint leaned over and took Jim’s hand in his own. “Can you please promise that whenever you feel like this you’ll try to come find me, or Stark or anyone. Just don’t try to deal with this alone when you don’t have to.” He squeezed Jim’s hand before letting go and carefully standing, adjusting Nate so that he wouldn’t drop him.

“Now. I have a kid who, unless I get him into the quiet of his crib will probably be awake in ten minutes so I’m going back to my apartment. You can come if you want. Laura already took the older ones out to the zoo so it’ll just be us and Nate today.” Jim thought over the offer. His immediate response was to say no, to crawl back into bed and never leave, but he paused forcing himself to actually think the offer over. He knew that if anyone on the team was going to understand it would be Clint. Sure feelings and deep heart to hearts weren’t the guy’s strong suit

“Hey…actually that’s pretty true.”

but that wasn’t what Jim needed. He didn’t need the pitying stares he got from the super soldier twins or the empty platitudes and waves of guilt that so easily rolled off of Sam and Tony. What he needed was to feel useful.

“Great! here you go then.” suddenly there was a sleeping kid thrust in his face and then settled onto his lap, tiny head resting over his heart. “You can carry him and I’ll push your chair. Then if you still wanna feel useful. I have a stack of paperwork from the last few missions that you can do and I’m pretty sure Laura wanted me to do the laundry.” Surprising even himself, Jim laughed, though it was cut short when Nate wriggled in his hold.

“Nah you can keep the paperwork but I’ll come put this cutie into bed no problems. Though you are going to have to take him so I can get into my chair.” Nodding, Clint wheeled over his chair and took Nate back just long for Jim to get comfortable before gently positioning him on his lap.

As he was wheeled out and toward the Barton residence, Clint humming loudly and off key behind him and Nate snoring softly against his chest, he knew that even though he still had a long road ahead of him that he wouldn’t be walking it alone. It felt nice, he thought as Clint glared at a pair of interns, to have someone that understood.


	5. Scott

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am ALIVE!!!  
> I'm not really happy with this chapter but it's been a long enough wait as it is.  
> Hope you enjoy it though :)

Things were finally looking up for Scott. Ever since helping Captain America out and becoming a fugitive life had kinda sucked. No one was really in the head space to make nice with the new guy, what with all the pining for frozen super soldiers and anger toward their situation. But now. Now they were heroes again and he could finally see his little girl and, hopefully, make some new friends...

Scott was alone. He had tried everything he could think of to get to know the other Avengers. None of it worked. He got scoffed at by Black Widow when he suggested they spar, eye rolls from Hawkeye when he suggested having a video game tournament, death glares that could melt the polar ice caps from Colonel Rhodes when he wanted to join him on his daily walk around the compound, Stark just ignored him flat out and the others avoided him like the plague.

So now here he was sitting in his room about to call Luis and the gang to work out when they would be in New York (apparently Luis’ second cousin’s daughter’s boyfriend was opening a new art gallery in town) and was dreading the million questions they would ask about his super cool new friends.

Glaring at the new Stark phone he had been gifted Scott began to dial.

“Hey man what’s up.” Luis said so quickly that it almost sounded like one garbled word.

“Nothing much just wondering when you’d be in New York. Thought we could y’know hang out or something.” Scott hoped that he didn’t sound as desperate as he felt.

“Oh Yeah! We’ll be there tonight the gallery opens at 6 and there’s gonna be some special guests so don’t be late. Y’know unless you got some superhero thing to take care of. It must be so cool getting to hang out with all them heroes. My uncle actually worked for the Avengers for a bit y’know, said they were really chill…”

“No, no superhero things tonight. Plus, I hang with these people all the time but I haven’t seen you guys in ages. So don’t worry I’ll be there.” Scott hung up before Luis could either rant more or ask questions and slumped in his chair.

The day passed slowly with hardly any sightings of the other inhabitants of the compound but eventually Scott was in his nicest suit and driving into the city. He balked when he drove past the gallery and saw the flashing of cameras and an honest to god red carpet leading to the front door of the gallery. Opting to go through the back entrance to avoid all the attention, Scott turned down the alley on the left of the building. He wasn’t even fully out of his car before he was ambushed by Kurt, Dave and Luis.

“Hey guys.” Scott sighed as they dragged him into the gallery. The room was filled with people, all looking much more at home here than him, and music. He chatted seriously with the guys for a bit, well Luis talked and they listened, before they dissolved into inside jokes and hypothetical heists. He was, for the first time in a while, actually happy and was so focused on that feeling that he missed the arrival of the special guests.

Scott paled when he saw them. Captain America, Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson were milling about the room. He muttered some excuse to the guys and bolted, ending up in the bathroom and skidding into one of the stalls, locking it behind him. What the hell were they doing there? They had all turned him down when he asked if they wanted to go with him to this thing, so why…

That was it wasn’t it. It was because he was the one asking. They wanted to come just not with him. Scott’s stomach plummeted into the floor and his chest felt like it was in a vice grip. Having how much the others didn’t like him shoved in his face was just a bit much for him and he wasn’t ashamed to say that a few tears managed to escape his eyes and trickle down his face. He sat on the toilet seat with his head in his hands and just stared at the ground. There was no way he could stay now, not with the others there. He wouldn’t be able to handle their rejection in public, not in front of the guys.

Someone walked into the bathroom and Scott held his breath wishing that they would just leave already so he could escape. The person walked closer to his stall and knocked instead. Who does that? There were two other stalls that were clearly free.

“Occupied.” Scott winced when his voice cracked in the middle of the word.

“C’mon Tic Tac open up.” Scott sighed and closed his eyes. Great what did Sam want. To point and laugh, no he was too polite for that, or maybe he wanted to tell him that they had finally decided to kick him off the team. Either way Scott wasn’t going to open the door.

His eyes snapped open when he heard muffled swearing and something being dragged across the floor. He stared in disbelief, mouth gaping, as Sam Wilson A.K.A the Falcon shimmied under the door of the toilet and glared up at him. He entire torso was in the tiny cubicle while his legs poked out the other side.

“Now can we talk?” Sam huffed as Scott continued to stare at him. This was a lot of effort to go through just to tell him to fuck off…

“Nope, nu-uh. I’m not doing that. Now can you please unlock this door before…too late.” Scott heard the bathroom door creak open and heard at least two sets of footsteps enter. Sam was suddenly pulled from under the door and Scott tried his hardest not to scream when the cubicle door was ripped from its hinges by a metal hand. He uncurled from his position on the toilet and gawked at the two super soldiers in front of him. Cap held Sam’s right ankle and was smirking down at him while Barnes held the broken door and glared at Scott.

What the actual hell.

“So, it’s come to our attention that we haven’t been that great to you.” Cap said glancing down and honest to god blushing as he waved Sam’s leg toward him. Sam just glowered at the ceiling with his arms crossed over his chest while lying on the floor, muttering about damn super soldiers and manners. Scott couldn’t believe it, they were apologising to him?! Well Cap was the others…not so much. Barnes was still staring at him with a look Scott had named the Murder Pout, it was far more terrifying than it sounded.

“Oh my god this is just my face!” Barnes threw his arms in the air, the door still in his hand, and huffed a sigh. Where the hell had that come from? Scott still hadn’t moved from his spot in the cubicle if anything he was even more tense now. If they were trying to be…what nice? They were doing a horrible job.

“We know and we’re sorry. Now can we please take this conversation somewhere that doesn’t stink?” Sam had finally wrenched his leg free of Captain America’s grip and was dusting himself off as he strode toward the door. Scott really didn’t know what was happening, but he was pretty sure he was being pranked which…really stung. Hoping that he would be able to hide in the gallery until they left, Scott scurried past the super soldiers and out the door.

He was incredibly proud of himself when, after a few minutes of weaving through the crowds, he turned to find that he had lost his super soldier tail. He knew ditching them was wrong but once they tell him outright that they don’t want him near them or the Avengers, that’s it. There would be no pretending that they were just busy or that they had other plans, he would know for sure how much he didn’t belong there.

He was so focused on his thoughts that he didn’t notice that he had wandered into an almost empty part of the gallery or that the only other living souls in there were Sam, Cap and Barnes. He did scream this time when Cap rested his giant hand on his shoulder.

“It’s not that big.” Cap pouted, staring at his hand. What the hell was going on and why wouldn’t these three just leave him alone? Did they enjoy scaring the crap out of him and emotionally destroying him? Scott stomped toward the entryway fully intending to just go home at this point, Luis’ distant relative be damned, when he was hoisted up into he air and spun around. He just sighed and let his head loll forward in, he was guessing it was Barnes’, grip.

“Can you please listen to us now?” Sam was tapping his foot with his arms crossed over his chest in the best imitation of an angry soccer mom Scott had ever seen. Barnes roared with laughter, jostling Scott, and wiped tears into the back of Scott’s suit as Sam glared at him with the force of 1000 burning suns.

“I climb under a toilet door, across disgusting bathroom floors and apologise and this is the thanks I get? Not cool.” Sam muttered as Cap patted his shoulder. What was going on. Scott hadn’t said anything let alone something rude. He would never, they might actually get rid of him for that.

“No, we wouldn’t. We give each other shit all the time, and please stop calling me Cap I’m just Steve.” Sure, they give each other crap but they had known each other forever, while Scott was the new guy. He wasn’t even there all the time because Maggie had finally agreed to let him spend more time with Cassie. He had no idea how Cap knew about Scott referring to him as Cap because he always avoided him at the compound and he hadn’t said anything to him directly tonight. Had he?

“Nope.” Barnes said popping the ‘p’.

Just as Steve asked, “You have a daughter?”

“Loki cursed one of us remember. It turns out it was you and now your thoughts are being broadcast to all the Avengers. The others say hi by the way, they were all actually busy tonight.” Barnes dropped him unceremoniously on the floor and shrugged. That was the most Scott had ever heard Barnes say in one go, he was surprised that he could actually say that many words without spontaneously combusting or something. What did he say about thoughts being…

“Shit.” Scott paled. He had just insulted arguably the world’s best assassin while his giant wall of muscle of a best friend could hear.

“I am so sorry Mr Barnes I just wasn’t…or well I was… I didn’t.” That’s it. Scott was a dead man. He knew it they brought him here to kill him.

“Oh my god. We’re not going to kill you.” Ca-Steve muttered, rolling his eyes. While Barnes looked incredibly smug. Scott supposed he could at least listen to what they had to say as long as they really weren’t going to kill him or kick him off the team.

“Great. Can we get this over with?” Sam asked as Barnes set Scott back on his feet.

“Right. Well as I was saying earlier. We realised that we haven’t been treating you well at all and we came here to apologise. We were all to caught up in our own issues to pay any attention to the new members of the team.” Steve held himself like he was giving his first speech in high school, all stiff shoulders and clenched fists. Scott would have been offended by the clearly pre-written and rehearsed speech if he hadn’t been hit by Steve’s puppy dog eyes. Those watery baby blues looked so stricken and pathetic that Scott couldn’t even be excited that he could call Captain America Steve.

“We were going to have a late dinner and this diner Bucky found across town. Wanna come with?” How the hell was Scott supposed to say no to the Puppy Dog Eyes of Doom and Sadness.

“Sure yeah that…that sounds great.” Totally not gonna be awkward or anything. At least Scott could hope.

“Nah man. It’s gonna be awkward, just not for you. The amount of dirt Bucky and I have on Steve is incredible.” Sam smirked as he slung he arm around Scott’s shoulders and led him from the room, Barnes following close behind with a conspiratorial grin spread wide.

“There-there’s no need for stories about me. We were going to get to know you tonight.” Steve stutter from the back of their small group. His face almost glowed red as he looked to Scott with wide beseeching eyes.

“Oh no. I would actually love to hear all about you.” Scott used his best shit eating grin and cackled when he heard Steve mumble,

“Oh fuck.”

Maybe he might just belong here after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Any and all Russian in this fic comes from google translate. I'm sorry if it's wrong and would be forever grateful if someone could just leave a comment correcting any mistakes they see.


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